


The Formative Years

by SpankedbySpike



Category: Leverage ~ OMC (Idriss)/eliot (teen)
Genre: Caning, Community: spanking_world, Discipline, Gen, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 16:31:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpankedbySpike/pseuds/SpankedbySpike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot nowadays is an extraordinary Hitter, skilled and surprising his teammates at every turn. This is the story of how some events in his life built up to transform the teenager he was into the man we see and love today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Formative Years

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to: the lovely [](http://razzie2414.livejournal.com/profile)[**razzie2414**](http://razzie2414.livejournal.com/) for her Birthday ♥ to match her [birthday request](http://spanking-world.livejournal.com/3365.html?thread=799013&#t799013). Sending big hearts and hugs your way J  
> 

 

He really loved Ms Nelson. She was the best teacher ever, and she was pretty too. He never thought he’d be into home economics that much but she was teaching them about really understanding the principles of cooking and the essentials of taking care of your tools and how to make everything taste good. He was smitten!

He’d always been the lurker type, quiet at home and invisible at school. This is the only class he fought to be up front. He didn’t really get there but she did walk around all the time to check on what they were doing. And the brightest days of his young life were when she stopped to see what he was up to last. With the class being sixth period he could have her undivided attention as the other students left.

That’s how his love affair with knives started. She was incredible at cutting vegetables, cleaning them and all without a cut. He was mesmerized every time he watched her wield them, so he got into practicing at home. Night after night… It didn’t start good but now, weeks later he was the most skilled student she had, at least for the preparation section of the class. Now it was about discovering condiments and Eliot really was considering becoming a Chef, this was such a life changing experience. Until the day it really did. He found out with an anonymous announcement over the PA system of his school. Ms Nelson had been at the wrong place at the wrong time and died from the complication of a gunshot over the Thanksgiving break. It had been messy and she had been touch and go until the end. No one was able to say goodbye and that was even worse for Eliot. Guns were for cowards, those that couldn’t develop their skills enough to actually hit the person deserving it or targeted and destroyed the lives of those that did make the world a better place. 

Eliot had been pissed at the world since then. Enough that by Christmas time he did a stupid thing that got him in big trouble. By then, he’d been good enough at throwing knives that things were dangerous. And of course, his thirteen-year-old brain had come up with a stupid scheme, his implementation had sucked and he, therefore, got caught.  He had picked the lock alright. He was looking for the flare gun and rummaging in the dark as silent as a Ninja, he thought…

A lesson for the ages sadly. 

Master Idris found the little rugrat rummaging in the Mechanical Room, as silent as an elephant stuck in a small space. He could hear the floor crack, the door bang on the drywall, little hands shoving boxes around. Master Idris couldn’t figure out what someone wanted to steal from their storage slash mechanical room. Even the First Aid Kit didn’t have any medication a drug addict would be interested in, so he tiptoed cautiously and was surprised to see the neighborhood kid rummaging through things only emerging when he grabbed the flare gun they used when bringing the kids to camp in the summer.

He couldn’t let a young boy like this ruin his life or risk an injury so he intervened… The Zen way.

He switched the light on and as quickly pulled the crouching boy up by the ear. The teenager sputtered, tried to escape and ended up pushed against the wall with his chin raised by the unflinching fist of the owner. 

“Are you going to calm down and talk or will this escalate until you end up in Juvie?”  He knew he had a booming voice but he realized once again how powerful it was when the boy recoiled and tried to make himself even smaller.

“Leave me alone.” Came the tiny voiced request.

“You broke in into my place, start talking or I call the cops.”

The poor kid shuffled from one leg to the other before letting a broken breath come in, “I wanted protection.”

Master Idriss looked quickly around the empty dojo, assuring himself they were not at risk. He dropped on his knees and looked the kid for intense moments. “Explain!”

A sniffle or two later, the young boy sat on the floor with his arms around his bony knees and then started.

“My teacher was killed not far from here. A stray bullet, I think. And no one talks about it, no one talks about what we are supposed to do. I can’t figure out if I should be afraid, or ready to die at any moment. I want some form of power, or strength… but I am not courageous. I don’t know how to defend myself.”

That is messed up.  Master Idriss wanted to strangle the parents, the school officials, this kid’s friends. It couldn’t have been that hard to realize he needed help and he probably wasn’t the only one affected by this tragedy.

“You can reclaim every bit of power ever taken from you boy. But it’s not done in the middle of the night sneaking in on other people properties, stealing stuff that don’t belong to you. But, first things first, what is your name?”

“El. Eliot.”

“Eliot . This is a Dojo, and I teach here. If you want you can come a few times after school and learn any of the Martial Arts we teach. We need to meet with your parents so they can sign the release and you can learn about commitment and discipline if you are intent on that path.  Would you like that?”

Eliot nodded, a small smile spreading on his boyish face before a frown replaced the grin.

“What if we cannot afford it?”

“Don’t concern yourself with those details. You have a more pressing concern, Eliot. You need to make up for the breaking in tonight so we can start tomorrow fresh. In my book, that means 12 of the best. Have you ever received a canning?”

Eliot turned his head from left to right, unsure about what a canning was.

“For those of us coming from the old country, education often included a trip to the headmaster for paying with a hurting behind for stupid stuff we did. We didn’t like it but we all became men of our words nevertheless, so you can accept your punishment and we work on making you a strong, reliable and confident man or you walk out of here, now, no punishment but your own conscience to nag you. What is your decision?”

Eliot stood up, looking at the imposing black man in front of him, he didn’t feel proud of his snooping around yet he was elated that he may have a chance to do something, to be someone. He made his decision and advanced on the still crouched man.

“I don’t know what a canning is Sir but I am willing to make amends and take the opportunity you offer me.”

Master Idriss was proud of him. That was the kind of boys he wanted in his Dojo, not afraid to stand for what is right, not afraid of hard work, not lured by a cultural reference or boost, honest and determined. He couldn’t wait to work with the kid.

“Then let’s go to my office.” He straightened up, cleaned up the storage room and walked towards the back, hearing the soft pads of the rubber soles of the teen chuck’s follow him rapidly, never matching the long strides but trying.

The light gave a warm glow to the wood furniture and made the room almost homey.

“Lean over the desk and drop your pants.”

Eliot was not really ready for it, but even though he had never received the cane as a kid, he’d heard enough from other friends to know how it was done and what to expect. He just wasn’t exactly eager either. He wasn’t very good at opening his own pants, fumbling and making it all worse. Master Idriss wasn’t paying attention to him though; he was rummaging in an innocuous cupboard coming back with a simple looking round piece of wood. It switched in the air making a very unique sound just as Eliot had pushed his jeans past his knees. He wanted to look back but figured there was no reason to look and panic, he had already agreed and he didn’t plan on backing out. And plenty of other boys survived the same treatment, so he lowered himself on the desk, squared his shoulders, hooked his fingers together and lowered his head ready to do penance.

Master Idriss wasn’t one to drag things forever, so he took position and aimed at the white briefs. 

“One” He didn’t count because he wanted to but because his voice would distract the boy from the painful ordeal and will give him a sense of hope knowing that 12 would be the end of the pain.

“Two” he didn’t even count before or as he readied his aim because he wanted to avoid the involuntary flinch everyone getting a spanking did.

“Three” Master Idriss was very impressed, Eliot hasn’t uttered a sound yet, he didn’t beg, he didn’t ask for reprieve.

“Four” and finally he sees poor Eliot lifting his feet and coming down, shaking his young body hoping to reduce the burn settling slowly.

“Five.” And the kid grunts. Master Idriss cannot see the thin lines created by the cane but he is a man of precision and he knows that so far, none of the lines have crisscrossed.

“Six.” That one almost lifted the boy up as it catches him at the juncture of his thighs and Eliot didn’t expect the move and the type of pain on that virgin patch of skin.

“Do you want to take a break Eliot?” Master Idriss could remember his first caning and it probably wasn’t even as bad as it could have been but the surprising sharp effect of each hit is always frightening for any first timer.

There was a hitch in the teenager breath and then “No Sir. I’d rather be done.”

Master Idriss wanted this over as well so he changed sides and mindfull of his strength he rushed through the remaining strokes.

“Seven.”

“Eight.” 

“Nine.”

He had to let the boy shake it up a bit.

“Ten.” And then he put his big hand on the small of Eliot back for the grand finale.  The last two thwacks would be made diagonally and it was going to hurt!

“Eleven.”

“Twelve.”

Boy was that dancing a familiar memory! Eliot was holding his hot buns with two hands dancing on the spot, rubbing like crazy and completely forgetting the discreet public watching it all.

Master Idriss was proud of him though.  He didn’t cry, didn’t try to weasel out, but did commit to make a real change in his life, if only all the local kids were that dedicated.

“Get yourself together and meet me at the entrance, I’ll drive you back home. I expect to hear from you tomorrow afternoon.” And with that parting shot, he left to fix the broken front lock.      


 I hope you guys enjoy my first ever Leverage Fic :-)

♥

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/Kudos are love :)
> 
> You can read this fic on my LJ too: http://spankedbyspike.livejournal.com/43944.html  
> where all the other fics I have yet to upload still are: http://spankedbyspike.livejournal.com/39497.html
> 
> :-)


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